


5 stages of grief

by lavenderdreamland



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Not Beta Read, heaven ishhh, youll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:46:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24272299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderdreamland/pseuds/lavenderdreamland
Summary: The aftermath of losing a loved one.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 55
Kudos: 128





	5 stages of grief

**Author's Note:**

> hellohello!!  
> this is my first time writing for smthn outside of school so any comments and critiques are appreciated !!!  
> aaand i respect these boys relationships and would die for amy and mika, i just adore their dynamic  
> this does kinda mention suicide but also not but does go thru the aftermath of it so if thatll upset u at all pls do not read !! take care of yourselves >:(  
> stay safe and healthy <333!!!

The sunset in front of him was a brilliant display of all the colors he had ever loved or could ever imagine, the dark blue of night slowly creeping over the brilliant red only brought him down further. It was too pretty. It should not be that pretty when his best friend was gone.

He really didn’t deserve any of this, or maybe at this point he did. It’s what he gets for not paying any fucking attention. It had only been a couple weeks or so but the days kept dragging on, a never ending cycle. It was a continuous loop of regret and pain, just over and over locking him in a perpetual state of mind numbing pain and loss.

Weird to think that not that long ago they were smiling and laughing their asses off over some stupid joke that one of them had made, but the peacefulness of the reverie was shattered very quickly. They had had the rest of forever ahead of them had Mark paid attention harder. He’d been told countless times at this point that it wasn’t his fault, but he knew deep down that they were wrong.

He should’ve noticed the boy withering away in front of him, laughs sounding more forced every time paired with smiles that never quite reached his eyes. The aftermath of the ordeal thrust him into the ideology of ‘maybes’ and ‘what ifs’. What if he had called like he planned to but didn’t because it was late at night? Maybe had he called, he could’ve gotten Ethan the help he needed in time.

When he got the call from Amy in the morning, his heart shattered. It was a cruel joke, there was no way it wasn’t. Just some stupid joke so they could record his reaction and upload it because people are sick, and  _ god _ it just had to be a joke. 

Sadly, it wasn’t.

The first day is always the hardest he realized after waking up to no texts from Ethan. No stupid posts at 3am, no ‘I love you’ spam, no encouraging words to wake up to, or weird sleep deprived ramblings. Of course there wouldn’t be, he was gone.

The second day was almost worse than the first, reality sinking in more than it had the previous. No goodbye’s were exchanged, just see you later. Maybe that was better. Knowing he would see him again one day. 

One day that was way too far away for his liking.

If he closed his eyes hard enough, he could still see Ethan in front of him. Happy and alive. So with that logic in mind, that meant if he kept his eyes closed long enough he would never have to come to the reality of losing all light in the world.

The eighth day he broke down after not crying since the third. It wasn’t anything huge that made him cry, he just saw a post that he thought the younger would laugh at and he just  _ broke _ . Mark couldn’t send Ethan things that he thought he would like anymore.

Days nine through thirteen passed quickly, almost leaving him breathless when he woke up on the thirteenth with the realization that tomorrow was two weeks. Time, like the cruel mistress she is, marched on ever forward as she had for as long as time was in existence. There were no breaks for anyone, the world still moved on for everyone else. But not for Mark.

His world halted almost two weeks ago.

On the two week anniversary, if you could call it that, of this whole mess his chest was heavier than it had been on the first. He only figured that it was because he had the funeral to attend today. He didn’t know if he was ready to look into the casket and finally say an unreciprocated goodbye.

He never did like goodbye’s.

The funeral was honestly lovely and so  _ very _ Ethan that it killed Mark to not appreciate it more. People were far too kind to him in his opinion, he caused this didn’t he? Shouldn’t they be more mad at him? But this was all some nightmare though, wasn’t it? He didn't get it.

Looking at Ethan in the casket, he had hoped he would look asleep or at peace but he just looked so obviously dead. He stared long and hard just wishing for Ethan’s eyes to open and tell him this was all a joke, or to yell at him to wake up because he had slept through his alarm again.

That didn't happen though, and he silently said his final farewell to the dead boy.

The fourteenth night was the worst so far, his dreams were flooded with him and Ethan. Together, happy and  _ alive _ . You take life for granted so often that when someone you love dies, you just forget it happens at first. But it happened, and Mark awoke to a tear stained pillowcase and a heavy heart.

He was still waiting to wake up to be quite honest, the pain was so numbing that he couldn’t remember the last time he had genuinely felt anything. His days were a monotonous cycle and he couldn’t find the energy to break it.

His world was gray now, so as more time passed the more he began to genuinely believe that this was some stupid dream. That he would wake up the next morning with a million notifications from Ethan’s night adventures. But it had dragged on for so long at this point that he wasn’t sure he was ever going to wake up.

Everything was muffled, every step sluggish as if he was walking through an ocean which horrified him. He wondered why it all had to happen so soon, it really didn’t make any sense. It still doesn’t feel real, like he’d wake up the next day and it’d be over. The process repeating itself over and over in his fragile mind.

It was only four weeks in when he had finally felt something. He was out with Tyler when the dam broke. 

“I-I don’t understand it. We were  _ okay _ , it was  _ okay,  _ everything was  _ okay, _ ” His voice broke and he took a deep breath before continuing angrily, “I don’t fucking  _ get _ it at all. It was fine one second, and then I woke up and then it wasn't. I don't get it, an-and I'm too tired to get it and I am  _ so  _ tired Tyler. I’m  _ so _ tired.”

He cried and he screamed and he punched things, taking his anger out in any way he deemed fit. He was just fucking pissed at this point, it didn’t make  _ any _ fucking sense. How could he do this? Why didn’t he reach out? Why now?

Five weeks had passed and all he saw was red. He was just so exhausted of being sad that all he could do was be angry, replacing any other emotion he had felt before— which wasn’t much. It followed him everywhere, taunting him like a demon.

He doesn’t know when he started lashing out at people, but once he started, he couldn’t stop. It was an addictive feeling, and he had every right to be angry. Though, it always ended up in him being numb, weirdly enough he still felt good about it.

Even still, people didn’t leave him alone. People still reached out to him to check on him and see if he was okay, but he stopped replying a long time ago. He just couldn’t find the energy.

A new loop was created and before long he was exhausted of that one too, it was the same even though it was new. He knew this was his body’s way of coping with the situation but that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt like hell.

Over time, red eventually became an orange and he was less resentful at everything. Don’t get him wrong, he was still pissed. He had just learned how to get a hold of it.

Soon the orange became yellow and he could feel the anger leaving his system. Slow and steady wins the race he had been told.

Then yellow became bargaining. It didn’t make sense at first, but then again nothing had for a while.

Red became orange. Orange became yellow. Yellow became bargaining.

He doesn’t know what he was bargaining for but he made more promises than he could keep up with. He never really believed in God, and this just further solidified the idea that he wasn’t there. Not to say that people who reached out to God in times like these weren’t allowed to, it just really wasn’t his thing.

And about those promises, it wasn’t anything huge, it was just things like ‘ _ I’ll pay more attention next time _ ’ and ‘ _ I’ll make sure this won’t happen again _ ’. They weren’t necessarily empty promises as he was going to do his best to uphold his end of the bargain. You just can’t save everybody.

He did start going out more, he still felt dejected and aggrieved most of the time—but he was able to push those feelings away long enough to have a real genuine laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

It was later on one day when he was out with Amy. They were at a kitschy restaurant downtown, having lunch to try and catch up as they hadn't spent much time together since before the whole thing went down. The temperature was warm and the sun was shining on your skin in a not unbearable way shockingly. He hadn’t felt the sun on his skin in such a long time so it was a pleasant feeling. Sadly, the feeling felt like a distant memory when he focused back in on the conversation. 

“Mark? Hey, buddy, you in there?” Amy asked gently.

“Uh- yes, sorry. I’m just a little in my head, nothing bad.”

Amy hummed, clearly not taking his bullshit but continued on anyway. “It's weird to think it’s been almost two months. Time’s going by way too quickly. Are you holding up okay? I know this has been rather hard on you.”

“I dunno Ames. ‘M just tired at this point.” He sighed

“I know bubbas, did you want to talk about anything at all?” She kept her tone gentle and light.

“Not really sure anymore, still doesn’t feel real I guess.”

“I know what you mean, have you been taking care of yourself though? Eating enough, staying hydrated, getting enough sleep? I’m worried about you Mark, I really am.”

Mark paused, contemplating what was just said to him before answering slowly, “I’m managing as best as I can.”

Amy looked at him sadly but nodded, not wanting to push her already frail friend past his limits. The rest of the hangout went smoothly, although conversations were questionable at points, it still was fun. Throwing jokes around and sitting in comfortable silence for a majority of the time, enjoying the food and each other’s company. Later on, they split the bill and went their separate ways.

“It’ll be okay eventually bub, just take all the time you need.” Amy had said to him before he left.

Later on that day he let himself think about Ethan for the first time in a long time. A lot of memories didn’t come to the surface, specifically the later ones where the younger wasn’t quite himself anymore. He thought about when they were on tour and hadn’t confessed their feelings to each other yet but flirted mercilessly. Or lazy mornings when Ethan decided to sleep over for an early shoot the next day. Or filming dumb shit for Unus Annus, always finding a genuine laugh in whatever the fuck they ended up doing.

He really missed him, heart aching to hold him one last time. It sucked ass, feeling such desperation for something that would never happen again. He was sure that if he tried hard enough that maybe in the next life he would finally get his happy ending.

Over the next few weeks he slowly started coming to terms with the idea that Ethan was genuinely and truly gone, and he was at a loss for what to do next. He felt everything and nothing at once, it was overwhelming and underwhelming. There were so many stupid ways he could describe it, trapped being the most prevalent one.

Getting out of bed gradually became an impossible task, taking care of himself fell away to the backburner. Menial tasks became inanely grueling, and it was pissing him off. He didn’t think it’d ever get this bad, yet here we were. It still didn’t feel real.

He’d be lying if he hadn’t considered joining his former lover, he had thought about it many times over. Maybe it’d be better than this hell, but he didn't even know if he’d ever see him again anyways, so there really wasn't a reason to take the risk. Worst case scenario was having everything cut to black with no promise of seeing those hazel eyes again. It wasn't worth it, it really wasn't.

It had been six months. A whole half a year. His friends decided to have a get together, better to be together than alone on such a hateful day. Mark couldn't bring himself to go but no one was upset by his absence, still they decided to drop off some food and groceries because none of them were quite sure of the last time the 30 year old went outside and did basic human things. He accepted them graciously and offered to pay the person who did it back, but no one came forward so he just sulked away.

Seven months in felt the same as the past three which was unfortunate, truly. It was slowly getting better but overall, still ass. He started taking Chica for walks again though, and started recording videos as much as he could which wasn’t that often. People were still grateful for the content and didn’t push for more.

It was eight months in when he decided to visit his grave for the first time since the funeral, the guilt of not paying him any visits like he had promised was eating him alive. He walked and fed Chica and left for the day, he dressed up a little, still wanting to impress him even if he couldn’t appreciate the outfit. He left his house and drove moderately slowly, deciding to stop at a flower shop in no obvious rush.

The day was cloudy but he pulled into the parking lot and walked to the gravesite, having a little bit of difficulty with finding the gravestone. Eventually, he came across what he was looking for, and his heart sank, kneeling down he gently placed the flowers on the grave. He stood up examining the words inscribed. 

“Hey, Eth.” He started slowly, voice wobbling and thick with emotion.

“It’s been a while, huh bud? I’m not quite sure what to say to be honest,” he paused for a moment, taking that second to look up to the sky to fight off the tears, “I miss you.”

“I miss you so much,” he whispered, voice breaking slightly, soon the whisper became a desperate plea for anyone to hear, “I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you  _ so _ much.”

“I don't get it, but I suppose I never will. ‘M not mad at you, I don't think I ever  _ really _ could be. I just- I don't, ah fuck. I said I wasn’t going to cry, I promised myself I wouldn't, well I guess that's a Markiplier Promise for you. Always getting fucking broken.”

“I just hope you’re happy.” He said genuinely, he didn’t know how much pain the younger was in so he just hoped he was happy and safe wherever he ended up. He stood there and talked about his life and what was going on for a little while. Eventually, he had said all there was to say for the time being. 

“I’ll talk to you soon Eth.” He started walking away, feeling a little lighter than he had when he had arrived. He paused and looked down at the grave, “I love you, so damn much.”

He took his leave and went back into his car. Tears silently streaming down his face as he drove home. He was grateful there were so many videos of Ethan in existence, because even if he forgot his touch, he couldn't forget his voice or mannerisms.

Nine months in was Ethan’s first birthday that he wasn't alive for, Mark still made a cake and decorated and sang Happy Birthday. Quite pitiful to say the least. He even had put a little hat on Chica that he was sure Ethan would’ve giggled at.

A year had finally passed before Mark finally came to the realization that Ethan was  _ gone  _ gone. That didn't ease the pain, but it made it easier to deal with overall. It had been a long process and a difficult one, still going through conversations and old videos. Maybe he  _ was _ a masochist because this ranked ten on the pain scale, yet he kept going back like a selfish bastard. 

Slowly, but surely the years kept flying by. One became two, and two became three, and three became four. Time flew by, and Mark slowly began to heal. He still missed Ethan with all his heart but eventually he stopped thinking about him daily. His heart still ached for the better times but he did his best to move on and live a good life.

He visited Ethan as often as he could, never missing a birthday or anniversary, and he did his best to keep his promises and lived his life as free and happy as he could. He had done a lot and hoped that Ethan was proud of him, he did do his best after all.

It was the end of the road for him now though, he could feel it.

He considered 88 a good and long life, he was successful and happy. Though, at the end of the line his body was old and tired. He wasn’t quite sure what awaited him on the other side as he layed in his bed in the hospital room. Silently praying that there was an afterlife and maybe— just maybe he could see Ethan again

His family and friends came in for one last visit. They crowded around his bed and filled the room to the brim. They all said their goodbyes and shared memories old and new, laughing and crying. It was bittersweet. Saying goodbye had never been so difficult yet easy at the same time. Even in his old age, Mark was still a charismatic person which eased everyone’s pain. The worst was still yet to come, but they could relish in his company while it still existed.

Eventually, the room cleared out leaving him alone in solace. Although he was afraid, he was at peace. He had been waiting for this moment for a long time and he was almost glad it was finally happening, he missed everyone he had lost along the way. 

He was finally ready, everyone was gone and he was left alone with his thoughts. He wasn’t sure what dying would feel like, but he didn't imagine it to feel like it did at all. Everything just came to a slow stop, the world around him going dark.

“I’m comin’ Eth, sorry it took so long bud,” and with that he gave a final exhale slipping off into a land of permanent sleep. Onto life’s next great adventure.

  
  


-

  
  


When he awoke, it was bright as fuck. Groaning he tried opening his eyes but hissed at the light, feeling like a vampire he shielded his eyes. He noticed his body was younger though, and he was thoroughly perplexed and wondered if it was just a dream.

“Oh thank fuck, you’re  _ finally _ awake. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting? Jesus fucking christ.”

Mark’s eyes shot open at the voice, he immediately felt years of hurt and grief just melt away. There was no fucking way this was real, now  _ this _ had to be a dream. But it wasn’t, as he looked forward brown locked with hazel and he slowly processed the man in front of him. 

“Eth? ‘S that really you?”

“Yeah,” the younger boy smiled, looking the same as the last time he saw him but infinitely happier, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Am I dreaming?” At that question, Ethan pinched Mark, making him wince.

“Does that answer your question?”

Mark released a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, hand reaching out to cup Ethan’s face. The younger leaned into his touch, “I’ve been waiting so long for you,” he breathed.

Mark suddenly overwhelmed with emotion just said the first thing that came to mind, repeating it like a chant, “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love-”

He was cut off with a kiss from Ethan, lips locking he finally felt like he was home. The kiss was slow and lasted a while, Mark genuinely doesn’t remember what kissing Ethan felt like so he was going to savor it for as long as he could.

“I love you too.” Ethan smiled, “Welcome home, I hope you don’t mind spending the rest of forever with me, Chica, and Spence over here.”

The golden retriever came bounding towards her former owner, tail wagging excitedly, and he noticed Spencer behind Ethan doing the same. It all felt too good to be true, so he forced himself to enjoy it while it lasted. He didn’t even realize he was crying until Ethan ran his thumbs under his eyes and began placing light kisses all over his face.

“You’re ok sweetheart, you did it.”

“I did?” Mark replied breathlessly.

“Yeah, you did.” Ethan smiled softly, holding Mark for the first time in over 50 years. 

Letting himself feel happy for the first time in a long time.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i went thru this as often as i could but my brain is tired so sorry for any mistakes jkdsgh


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